


The Illusion of Freedom: A Brief History of Lauren Lewis

by lonejaguar



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonejaguar/pseuds/lonejaguar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glance at Lauren’s life from Afghanistan, to the Congo, to her parents’ living room, to FaeTown. It’s a wilder ride than you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Illusion of Freedom: A Brief History of Lauren Lewis

**Author's Note:**

> Written BKB (Before Karen Beattie)

\--------

0.

Flying alone was both a blessing and a curse. It gave you all the time in the world to peruse the SkyMall catalogue, sleep, or watch whatever Hollywood reject movie on the screen midway through the flight. Lauren never did any of that, of course, instead opting to think. This often got her into more trouble than she intended, especially when there was far too much to think about now.

Lauren obsessed over what was and what could have been. Would her decisions have made any difference? Did this overwhelming sense of loss and responsibility deserve to be put on her shoulders? It didn’t seem to matter. It was on her shoulders, her mind and her heart. This was the way she operated, like it or not. She was on her own now and had better start getting used to herself.

\--------

1.

“Lou!” There was a sharp pain in her shoulder that roused her from sleep. “Lou, wake up!” Her body was jostled in the dusty Jeep’s backseat.

“What?”

“Jesus, it’s not like we’ve waited months and traveled a million miles to get here.” Her arm was nearly pulled out of its socket. “Get your ass up.”

“Ow, what the hell, Jackie.”

Jackie was a small brunette, but full of energy, her hair disguised under the bucket hat that rested on her head. She’d been a pain in the ass ever since they roomed together at Yale, betting Lauren her scores would be at least five points better. Lauren didn’t like to boast, but she appreciated the competition.

“Lauren, seriously.” She watched Lauren sling the backpack over her shoulder. “We’re representing our country here. This is an experience of a lifetime.”

Lauren rolled her eyes as she swung a leg over the side of the Jeep. “You sound like that orientation video.” Her smirk faded when she looked beyond her friend and to the armed escorts behind her. The video promised experience, but those running the information sessions were clear that the danger was real. It wasn’t until she saw the large cargo plane on the runway in the distance and the soldiers milling about. The landscape was nearly barren, dirt, sand, and a few trees and bushes that were hearty enough to survive were the only things decorating the horizon.

Then it was the heat, the dry and unrelenting rays of the sun, beating down on her bare arms. Lauren pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, transfixed by the automatic rifle strapped to the man walking toward them. Suddenly this was all very real.

“We’re here to help, Lou,” Jackie whispered. “To save lives.”

“Right,” Lauren nodded. She looked up at the soldier that stopped in front of her. He was gargantuan.

“Doctor Lewis? Doctor Gregg?”

“Yeah,” Lauren answered, her fingers gripping the strap of her backpack. “That’s us.”

The soldier turned to the side. “This way.” He gestured to a small propeller plane in front of the monster cargo aircraft. “The flight’s not too long,” he said as he walked along side them. “We should be there by dark.”

Lauren followed the rifle to the runway, trying to collect the nerves she felt building. This is what she wanted after all. Lauren wanted the excitement, the experience, and ultimately to help in a situation that was in dire need of anyone with enough skill to sew a stitch or two together. This was her chance to make a real difference and she knew it would change her forever.

\--------

2.

Her stomach dipped with the airplane as it descended. It’d been an hour since she’d started feeling ill and she prayed to a god she never spoke to that she could make it to the ground without embarrassing herself. The static from the radio could barely be heard over the incessant drum of the propellers. Lauren watched their escort tilt his head into the radio on his shoulder and tried to read his lips. When he looked up, their eyes locked.

“Roadside IED,” he called over the noise. “One dead, eight injured. Hope you ladies are ready to hit the ground running.”

\--------

3.

The ceiling in her tiny room had eighteen tiles. Each tile had sixty-four smaller tiles within them. She had counted the tiles one hundred and twenty-two times this week alone. Lauren blinked at the waffle pattern behind her eyelids and rolled over on the tiny foam mattress. She stared at the pitted concrete wall. Between doctors and officers yelling at each other, patients screaming and the planes overhead, she hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time in a week. Her eyes burned.

What was she thinking, coming here? Was it worth the attention her parents lavished her with the day before she left? Not really knowing if she’d return scared them to death. Well, at least her mother. Lauren almost hoped for it. It would serve them right.

The door to her room cracked open and Jackie poked her head inside. “Lou, you awake?” she whispered.

“No.”

“There was an accident a few miles down the road. They’re asking for you.”

Lauren tried to make a picture out of the marks on the wall, but didn’t dare move. “How long?”

“Ten minutes.”

She groaned as she sat up, every muscle in her body begging her to lie back down. She felt like a dead weight. “The injured?” she asked, pulling the light colored scrubs over her head.

Jackie slid inside the door. “Three civilians and two military. All stable, but two.”

Lauren sighed and rubbed at her eyes. They felt like sandpaper. “I’ll be right there.”

\--------

4.

“Come on, can’t you do that any faster?”

Lauren dressed the seeping gunshot wound on the elderly woman’s arm, trying to ignore the hovering soldier behind her. “I told you, I’ll deal with him when I’m done.”

His sigh was audible. “My buddy’s in pain, hurry it up.”

Lauren turned to face the man behind her, who was a little smaller than her giant escort a month ago, but had far more fire in his eyes. “This woman has a gunshot would from one of your guns because she tried to run for cover when you held her husband up at the checkpoint five miles from here. She deserves just as much of my care as your _buddy_.”

The soldier huffed and turned around. “Fucking bleeding hearts,” he muttered. He turned his head as he continued to his friend. “When one of them has a gun pointed at your face, don’t come crying to me.”

Lauren held back the roll of her eyes, returned to the old woman and smiled at her. She rolled the bandage around her forearm and watched it carefully as the first few layers absorbed the blood. She taped the edges meticulously, but not without haste. When she was satisfied with the dressing, Lauren placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and marveled at her strength. The older woman may have looked over seventy, but she was anything but frail.

“Okay?” Lauren asked. It was one of few words that translated into every language. When the woman nodded with a smile, Lauren got to her feet and made her way to the other side of the room.

\--------

5.

It turned out that the old woman’s son, Merzhad, owned a small food stall in town at the top of a long hill from the hospital. He spoke softly and his eyes held the same fire and resilience as his mother’s. When it was quiet, Lauren found the tables outside an appealing getaway from the tiled ceiling in her room. She was given endless qorma and naan by the doting son, who thanked her over and over for taking care of his mother. If there wasn’t a major conflict going on, she might opt to stay at the end of her tenure.

Lauren looked up at the sun in the sky. The heat started to feel cleansing - pulling the stress from her bones. Her eyes closed behind her sunglasses, thinking maybe she might get a nap in after all.

The shrieking of a small child shattered her dream and pulled her back to the small table on the dirt and sandy street. Lauren sat up and scanned her surroundings for the source of the cry. Her eyes fell on a pair of children on the ground across from the restaurant. One held his leg close to his chest, the other crying for help. Her coffee was deserted in a moment and she rushed into the street.

Merzhad was at her side a second later. He helped her carry the boy to her table and sit him down. Lauren looked the boy over carefully as she knelt in front of him, noting the cut on his leg. Likely discarded metal or old shrapnel as the culprit, Lauren grabbed the unused napkin under her plate and soaked it in the glass of water. The boy wailed under her touch and she tried to sooth him as best she could. Lauren pulled the white rag from Merzhad’s hand, tying it around the boy’s leg.

“You know this boy?” she asked Merzhad, getting to her feet. He nodded. “Tell his parents to come by the hospital in an hour.” She pointed at his watch and held up her hand to avoid possible misunderstanding. “Five o’clock.” Merzhad nodded and watched Lauren take the boy’s hand. She smiled down at him. “Come on, let’s get that fixed up.”

\--------

6.

“I need another pair of hands here!” The voice came from behind her.

Lauren looked over her shoulder at the pair of doctors working on the latest arrivals from an attack on a small checkpoint north of town and back to her own two hands, covered in the blood of a young soldier. He was so far gone, Lauren wasn’t sure she could bring him around, but it wasn’t in her not to try.

“Doctor Lewis!” Now the chief’s voice.

“He’ll die if I leave him!” Lauren yelled back, unwilling to give up. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“You can’t save him, Doctor.”

She could. She knew she could. She’d lived her entire professional career believing she could do anything she put her mind to. She had to.

“Doctor!” Lauren jumped at the command. “That’s an order!”

She turned away from the soldier and rushed to the side of her colleagues. The only words spoken for the next hour were the barked commands of the resident in charge. They worked quickly and in tandem, almost seamlessly. When the last stitch was knotted, the machines next to their patient sang a reassuring tune of monotone beeps. Lauren stared at the woman on the table as the others pulled at their gloves and masks, another life saved.

A second later, Lauren was alone, the high-pitched squeal of the machine behind her tearing through her chest. Losing one to save another was a formula she would never get used to.

\--------

7.

Lauren didn’t sleep for three days. Each morning she counted the ceiling tiles as her alarm clock went off. Then it was patch, fix, diagnose, comfort, over and over again in a robotic sort of assembly line. On the third day, she was granted leave for twenty-four hours after telling the chief of medical staff what she really thought about his bedside manner. Granted, forced, same thing.

So she sat in front of Merzhad’s restaurant, pretending the eat the best qabli palao she’d ever had. She wore light cotton cargo pants and a white t-shirt under a linen shirt that danced around her in the hot breeze. It was a change from the standard issue scrubs she usually wore. Merzhad barely recognized her.

“Is this seat taken?” The voice was soft and relaxing.

Lauren looked up at the shadow. It was a busy day and seats were at a premium. “I don’t know what kind of company I’d be.”

“I can’t imagine walking into a war zone and expecting everyone to be in a good mood.” The mystery woman smiled at Lauren and braced herself against the edge of the table.

Lauren appreciated the view from behind the safety of her sunglasses before shrugging and gesturing for her to sit. She tore a piece of naan from the plate and popped it in her mouth. The visitor dropped a large bag next to her chair.

“So,” the woman started. “How’re the kebabs here?”

Lauren sighed. “You know, no offense, but I’m not feeling very conversational.” She saw the glint in the woman’s eye disappear and she felt a pang of guilt. “The kebabs are good, you’ll love them.” The smile that crossed the woman’s face was the most beautiful thing she’d seen in weeks.

“Are you military?” she asked.

Lauren laughed and that smile was there again. “No,” she shook her head. “No, I’m a doctor.”

“A doctor, wow.” The woman thanked Merzhad who’d dropped off a glass of water and a plate of dried fruit. “That’s an amazing sacrifice. Saving lives is so admirable.”

Lauren hummed. “But you can’t save them all.” She watched her eyes soften, but it didn’t betray her expression. “There wasn’t much in the way of career path choices when I was growing up.” Lauren sipped her water. “Being a doctor’s sort of the family business.”

“I understand.” The woman nodded and glanced at her watch. “Shit,” she whispered and looked at Lauren. “I have to go meet my boss for a shoot.” She looked downright disappointed. “Are you free later?”

Lauren smiled, flattered by the attention when she was sure she felt her worst. “You don’t even know my name.”

The woman stood and slung the large bag over her shoulder. She smiled down at Lauren and extended her hand across the table. “Nadia,” she said.

Lauren looked at Nadia’s hand with a smirk and shook it firmly. “Lauren.”

Nadia stared at her a little too long before adjusting the bag on her shoulder. “You look like you need to relax.” Lauren studied her from behind her sunglasses, finding it hard to resist the invitation. “I’m at the hostel down the street,” she said. “If you want to get a drink, or…” Nadia paused. “That’s where I’ll be, anyway.”

Lauren nodded and watched Nadia disappear into the crowd.

\--------

8.

The walls in most hostels around the world were thinner than paper. The smell of cumin and bread wafted through the room with the faint melody from the kitchen radio in the restaurant below them. Lauren grunted when her back hit the wall. Her hands came up to frame Nadia’s face as she kissed her, desperate and intense. They had spent two hours in the bar next to the hostel, talking and drinking and flirting. Nadia was a photographer with a newspaper who was in Afghanistan on an assignment to show everyone back home what it was really like overseas. Her manner was quiet, but bold and didn’t seem at all bothered by asking Lauren to her room. She kept Lauren on her toes, now both intellectually and physically.

Lauren told Nadia about her trials in med school - reconciling getting a job once she had graduated and getting a girl - her emotional goodbyes to her parents before coming here and the experience of being a doctor in a place like this.

Nadia tore the linen shirt from Lauren’s shoulders and pressed her against the wall as she removed her own. She kissed her jaw, her neck and her chest, holding Lauren still. In the shadows of the hostel walls, Nadia pulled Lauren’s jeans from her hips and kissed her gently, but without hesitation. Her skin shivered as Nadia’s hands moved over her as she got to her feet again. 

They fell onto the tiny bed that was scarcely more comfortable than Lauren’s foam mattress at the hospital. It creaked under their weight. Lauren knew Nadia hadn’t intended for this to happen when she’d asked her for a drink. But as she let Lauren take the lead, she must have known how badly Lauren needed the contact, the intimacy. How desperately she needed to feel something other than stress and sorrow. And Nadia felt safe. Comfortable. Her touch reminded Lauren of a place she’d forgotten about in these weeks abroad.

Then she was able to let go. The pleasure erased the pain and Lauren felt normal again. Through the sensation of skin, sweat and the scent of spice from the kitchen below, Lauren found a place she could forget about everything but the woman in her hands. And when they lay silent and panting for breath, Lauren didn’t stare at the ceiling as she had become accustomed to, waiting for the sun to rise. If Lauren was thankful for anything Nadia gave her, it was ability to sleep again.

\--------

9.

She stared at the piece of paper in her hands, sitting on the edge of the hostel bed with the sheets wrapped around her waist. It was the receipt from their evening at the bar. Lauren flipped it over:

_I’m so sorry. I had to go.  
Please call me._

Nadia had left her phone number and signed the note with her last name.

Lauren sighed and surveyed the room for her clothes. She stuffed the paper into the pocket of her cargos before pulling them on. She had better get moving, they’d be waiting for her at the hospital.

\--------

10.

Lauren stuck her hands in her pockets as she waited outside Merzhad’s restaurant. The streets here at night were quiet, but no less intense than during the day. It was cold, though. It seemed so strange after the scorching afternoon heat.

She jumped when the light turned on and the door opened. Merzhad stood to the side to let Lauren pass through. He had come to her at the hospital earlier that day, saying his mother wanted to see her. As he led her through the restaurant in silence, she wondered what she was walking into. Any scenario that passed through her mind, though, wasn’t anywhere near the reality.

The space was small. It seemed to double as a storage room, rice and dried fruit and nuts lined the outside walls. Lauren squinted at the overhead light on her way through the door. The scent of cumin and cardamom were strong. Her eyes fixed on the woman in the corner - Merzhad’s mother. He’d asked for Lauren’s assistance on his mother’s behalf. She’d expected the worst, naturally something her mother had taught her to do quite effectively.

“Hi,” Lauren said. She sat on a plastic crate next to the old woman. Her eyes glanced at the bandage. “Are you okay?”

The woman nodded with a smile. “Okay, yes okay.” She started to pull at the wrapping around her arm.

“No, no,” Lauren tried to stop her. “You need to leave that…” She trailed off as the woman revealed the wound was no longer. “What?” She looked back at Merzhad before sliding closer to his mother. “That’s not possible.”

“Everything is possible,” Merzhad replied, pulling up a crate of his own.

Lauren looked at him, then turned to examine his mother’s arm in the dim light. She turned it over, touching the smooth skin where a scar should be forming. She shook her head. “I’m…” Her shoulders raised and lowered. “I don’t understand.”

Merzhad’s mother started talking to her then. A language Lauren didn’t recognize from any of the locals in the hospital. She looked to Merzhad when she heard him start to translate. “She says you are a true healer. Born to it.” He listened a moment. “Your power is your knowledge.”

“My power?” Lauren watched the woman produce a small glass container from the table next to them and hold it out. Lauren took the container as the woman continued. It held a dark green paste and Lauren watched her demonstrate how she used it.

“This is an ancient recipe,” Merzhad caught up with his mother. “One that is memorized and never written.” Lauren looked inside the vessel and brought it to her nose to smell. “I will teach it to you.”

She paused then, the container under her nose. Lauren held the old woman’s gaze for a brief, but intense moment. Despite the woman’s appearance, there was remarkable youth in her eyes and Lauren was taken by it. She set the salve aside. “I would be honored.”

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11.

Lauren continued to visit the old woman when she could sneak away from the hospital. With Merzhad’s help, Lauren learned countless recipes for medicines and diagnostics and treatments for ailments she’d never heard of. She absorbed the information like a sponge, so excited to be learning something other than how terrible humans can be to one another. This was what she wanted to take away from this place.

She couldn’t wait to share her latest lesson with Jackie when she got back. Her friend had been helping transport a patient to the nearest city for additional care they didn’t have the time to do where they were. They were due back this afternoon. Lauren was happy to have Jackie to talk to about what was happening, magical healing, the strange practices. Lauren didn’t dare to mention it to anyone else.

The sloping landscape was beautiful from the hill, the deep green fading into rich browns that stopped at steep, rocky cliffs. Lauren had fallen in love this view. Halfway down the hill, Lauren spotted a familiar figure exit the hospital. Jackie turned and took a moment to wave a hello before opening up the jeep door.

What Lauren couldn’t see was the blinking red light that flashed under the vehicle when the door slammed shut. In an instant, Lauren’s ears were assaulted by the thunderous explosion and she dropped to the ground. Her eyes wide, her heart smashing against her ribcage, she looked around for the invisible assailants and got to her feet. The Jeep in front of the hospital was a shell of its former self, a bright, flaming mass of metal and glass. Before she realized it, her legs were carrying her down the road at an incredible pace, her lungs starting to burn from the smoke.

A crowd of doctors and civilians gathered around outside the hospital. Soldiers and military police, both on and off-duty tried to control the chaos, a few darting inside the hospital for fire extinguishers while they waited for emergency vehicles to arrive. Lauren moved for the flaming jeep, narrowing her eyes to see anything past the flames. She felt cold despite the heat and the grip on her arm surprised her as it pulled her back.

“What are you doing?” she ripped her arm free only to have the other fall into an equally firm hand. She looked frantically from one soldier to the other as they kept her from harm. “We have to get them out of there!” Lauren pulled at their fingers until her rational mind was finally able to push its way past the cloud of rage. Then she stopped fighting

When she looked up again, she saw the moment for what it was: a heartbreaking tragedy. What the papers would deem ‘an unfortunate, but inescapable hazard.’ One the organization’s representative talked about in the videos back home when they asked each and every applicant if they were sure this is what they wanted. She remembered looking at Jackie then, giving her her best no-nonsense, badass glare before they shared a smile.

Lauren felt the swell of her chest, the tightness in her throat. As doctors and soldiers alike scrambled to point the inadequate fire extinguishers at the blaze, she felt herself sway. Lauren could feel her body systematically start the process of falling unconscious and she welcomed it. Her hands tingled, her vision blurred. Lauren leaned on the soldier next to her and lowered herself to the concrete walkway to the hospital. 

\--------

12.

“Here you go, hon.”

Lauren attempted a smile, but didn’t make a concerted effort when the flight attendant handed her the whiskey and continued down the aisle. Her ears still rang like church bells inside her head, the sound of the blast startling her awake every couple of hours. She was exhausted.

They closed down most efforts from the organization mere days after the explosion. Buildings, equipment and supplies were left for the local governments and military to handle and all outside workers were immediately sent back to their respective countries. Part of her was happy about that, the other was torn. Lauren sipped her drink and looked out the window over the ocean. She wouldn’t have wanted to stay, but she couldn’t help but wonder what else she might have learned if she had.

She fingered the receipt paper in her pocket and stared at the words, but didn’t read them. She still wasn’t sure what to do with it, whether she wanted to remember the experience, or forget it ever happened. But the worst part of any of this was the encompassing dread that filled her chest. After this flight, after the cab ride home, after the longest and hottest shower in North American history, she’d have to face her father.

Setting the drink aside, Lauren leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. In two hours, she would wake up again, her heart pounding inside her chest, reliving that terrifying moment. But at least there would be two hours where she could actually forget it.

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13.

It still smelled the same. Even in the years that she’d been gone. Lauren opened the heavy front door and stepped into the foyer of the large home as she heard the cab speed away. She took a deep breath as she surveyed the same furniture and the same art on the walls that she remembered from years ago.

“Chocolate chip cookies,” Lauren whispered to herself, remarking on the scent that filled the room. She moved a few steps and put her bag on the floor at her feet. Every kid’s dream was to have their mom bake cookies. To share that time with them, to bond over butter and flour. For Lauren, cookies meant her mother was nervous, like that one time she dented her dad’s new car on the mailbox at the end of the driveway. They made cupcakes that day. But it was a fond memory that she didn’t let the cynicism of adulthood ruin for her. So much had been tainted by it already.

“Oh my god, Lauren!”

The clacking heels echoed throughout the first floor as Lauren smiled grunted under the squeeze from the arms encircling her shoulders.

“Hi Mom.” Lauren tried to return the hug, but found herself strangely restrained by her mother’s.

“I can’t believe it.” Her mother held her at arms length. “We were so worried.”

Lauren sighed as she was pulled into another embrace. “Mom, I’m fine.”

“What do you mean, ‘you’re fine?’” She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. “Your friend was killed in a terrorist attack, Lauren.”

She always liked pointing out the obvious. “Thanks Mom, I was there.” Her mother always talked about how proud she was of her daughter. How smart she was, how beautiful. But the fact that Lauren still had to get a cab ride home from the airport was a clear indicator that there were still some things that were more pressing. Just like always. “I really just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

Lauren smiled the rest of her apology and picked up her bag. It felt so strange to be home. Her eyes scanned the hallway as she walked half its length to the bottom of the stairs. The soft sounds of the television floated from the den at the back of the house and Lauren found herself drawn to its source, just like she did when she was a kid. Her father always watched college football on the weekend and this afternoon was no different. He sat in the brown leather armchair in his den, whiskey in hand, reading the newspaper.

“Hi Daddy,” Lauren said quietly, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi Sweetheart, how was your trip?” He adjusted the paper and crossed his legs. 

Lauren took a deep breath and stood next to him. The tears were quick to appear, but she swallowed them as soon as she noticed. “It was okay.” She turned her back to him and walked back to the stairs to retrieve her bag; her mom already on the phone recounting the media’s idea of what happened in Afghanistan to her friend.

Her body complained on the way up to what looked more like an Architectural Digest version of the room she left after university. Dropping the bag at the door, Lauren crawled onto the bed and pushed her arms under the soft pillows. She barely remembered taking off her shoes before falling asleep.

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14.

“Lauren.”

She heard the voice, but it didn’t register. Not until the third or fourth time, anyway.

“Lauren, sweetie.”

Her eyes opened and narrowed at the shadowed figure of her mother standing next to the couch in the basement. It was a corner of her parents’ house that hadn’t been touched since she graduated medical school and moved out. It still held so many memories: studying, late night make-out sessions, watching old reruns of television shows she was sure no one remembered.

“What is it?” Lauren mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She’d fallen asleep in front of the television again. Quincy MD droned on about murder suspects and autopsies.

“You’ve been down here for a week, Lauren. Shouldn’t you be looking for something to do?”

Lauren rolled her eyes behind her eyelids as a lamp was clicked on. “You mean like a job?”

Her mother started picking up beer bottles and cans from the tables around her. “Your father and I are worried about you.”

Lauren scoffed and scratched her head as she sat up. “Sure.”

“What?” Her mother stopped and turned to Lauren. “We love you, Lauren.”

“Mom, you haven’t asked me once how I’m doing since I got back.” Lauren looked into an empty bottle and put it back on the table. “Dad’s barely looked at me.”

Hands wrung the ever-present white towel. “I didn’t want to trouble you.”

Lauren nodded with a sad smile. “Right.”

The couch cushions depressed next to Lauren as her mother sat down and put a hand on her thigh. “How are you doing?”

She stared at her mother’s face, the flash from the commercials on the television lighting up her worn features. Lauren could feel the tears start from the tightness in her chest. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the flash of the jeep exploding, the sound still hurting her ears even in her head. The smell of burning fuel, canvas and flesh never left her and she never expected it to. “Terrible,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled her into her arms then, wrapping her with whatever love she could give her. Despite living away from home for so long, despite all the tragedy and the frustration and the emptiness in her chest, Lauren craved the comfort only her mother could provide. They sat together for an hour, Lauren’s tears soaking her mother’s sensible button down shirt. It was the first time Lauren let herself cry in front of her since that time they missed her award-winning replica of Mount Vesuvius destroying Pompeii and Herculaneum at her eighth grade science fair. And it felt good.

\--------

15.

Lauren sat on the edge of her bed and rested her forehead in her hands. Her body vibrated in frustration. Another round with her father, another round of explaining her choices in life, and another round of wondering why she didn’t get a hotel room. It was an age-old argument in the Lewis household. Her father never got over the fact Lauren went into medicine, a long line of surgeons coming to a grinding halt in the operating rooms of the world. When she told her parents she was leaving for Afghanistan, her mother cried and her father wondered why she wanted to help another country when her own could use her for more purpose. Her reasoning fell on deaf ears.

Tonight he couldn’t understand why she still didn’t want to become a surgeon even after she’d wasted her time ‘over there,’ as if medicine was a phase. Her hand shook when she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The number was on speed dial even though she never thought she’d actually use it.

“Hello?” The voice was soft and smooth and Lauren had found herself aching to hear it.

“Hey, Nadia, it’s… it‘s Lauren.” She looked to the ceiling for support. “The Doctor.”

“Lauren, oh my God, really?” The concern in Nadia’s voice was comforting. “I heard what happened. Where are you, are you still in Afghanistan?”

“No, no, I’m…” Lauren looked around. “Home. I guess.” There was an awkward silence and Lauren suddenly wondered what she was doing. She didn’t know this woman. She met her in the middle of a war-torn country under such duress that anything other than pain and sorrow was a rare commodity. In all of that, there was something about Nadia. Now that Jackie was gone, there wasn’t anyone else Lauren could spend time with that would understand her silence. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Nadia chuckled. “Are you serious?”

Lauren closed her eyes. “Yeah. I need to get away from my father for a while, I thought maybe we could… hang out.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” Nadia replied, but not without interest. “And I mean, in the world.”

The chuckle escaped Lauren’s chest before she could stop it. “Right now, I doubt it would matter.” She smirked. “But your phone number kind of gave you away.”

“When can you be here?”

\--------

16.

Lauren didn’t usually rush into things. Her mother taught her that an observant eye and a good lot of patience and planning would pay off in the end more than any spontaneous action. For the most part, she hadn’t been lying. In a month, Lauren would celebrate two years together with Nadia. She could hardly believe it. It seemed like it was yesterday that she asked Nadia to spend the weekend with her on a whim. They’d spent almost every minute in bed and Lauren fell impossibly hard for the charming photographer in the blink of an eye.

So much for Mother’s advice.

Lauren pointed at a paragraph in the large text she was reading and scribbled numerous notes in the tiny apartment she and Nadia shared. She had been hired on by a professor to help her with research for a paper she was writing. It had taken most of her time for the last few months for which she was grateful. Nadia had managed to get a job at a national magazine and had spent the better part of the last six months thrilling them with her skills and her personality. Lauren was happy for her and understood the sacrifice needed for it, after all, she was no stranger to getting lost in her work. It was something that she kept pushing to the back of her mind, though. The fact that they never saw each other, the fact that they hadn’t slept together in over a month. Whether she consciously chose to ignore the deconstruction of their relationship or not, it was happening.

Lauren tapped her finger on the book, having read the same sentence for the fifth time. She questioned her love for Nadia by imagining her life without her and the resulting anxiety that crept up her throat was a telling response. She loved Nadia. There was no doubt in her mind. A life without her was unimaginable.

The knock on the door surprised her and Lauren looked around the room as if there was someone else there expecting a visitor. She pushed herself up, surveying the literary carnage on the dining room table. The knock came again and Lauren stretched her back as she approached the door and glanced through the peep hole.

“Ms. Lewis?” the young courier asked when she opened the door.

“That’s me.”

“Package for you.” He handed her a large manila envelope and an electronic pad to sign. She scribbled her signature and frowned at the envelope, confused by its return address. “Have a nice day, Ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she said, but his back was already turned and halfway to the stairs.

Lauren studied the handwriting on the envelope on her way back to the table, unsure if she’d ever seen it before. She tore it open gingerly and pulled out a single piece of paper with the same handwriting and unlike a new book, Lauren skipped to the end, reading the signature at the bottom.

“Oh my god,” she said to the empty room. There was a look of shock before the smile as her eyes darted back and forth over the written lines. The paper shook under her fingers.

The letter was from Merzhad in Afghanistan. He wrote to say he was running a research project on traditional medicine and how it can help modern medicine and vice versa and would appreciate the expertise and knowledge Lauren possessed. He went on to say that even though she lost a good friend in the end, he felt very lucky to have met her and that his mother still asks about her. There were several ways to get into contact with Merzhad at the bottom the page and Lauren picked up the phone right away. She knew an opportunity when she saw it. 

Now the only problem was how to get to the Congo.

\--------

17.

“I’m kind of nervous.”

Lauren stood in front of their suitcases, hands on her hips, running through a mental list of things they could have been forgetting. She might be able to keep herself calm in the frantic atmosphere of a hospital, but she still worried about every detail everywhere else in her life. Including packing for the Congo.

“Nervous, really?” Nadia called from the bathroom. “Lauren, the unflappable?”

Lauren smirked at the luggage, knowing full well that so many of her concerns were kept tightly under wraps. Even from Nadia. Sharing all of herself was a difficult task before she left for Afghanistan and seemed insurmountable once she returned. Lauren knew this was a source of frustration for Nadia and was likely a reason why they felt somewhat more like roommates recently than lovers. But Lauren was determined to fix the situation and hoped another overseas trip would rekindle that romance they’d been missing.

Nadia had been able to get the okay from the magazine to document the story of the expatriated refugees that were displaced by the ending of a long-standing regime in the Congo. In fact, the magazine was so impressed by her proposal, they were happy to let her go.

“Don’t worry,” Nadia said, her arms wrapping around Lauren’s waist. “It’ll be a great experience for us both.”

Lauren hummed her response as she often did when she wasn’t convinced of something. She had heard that before.

\--------

18.

Lauren gripped the arms of her chair as the airplane dropped a few feet and tried not to look out the window. After all the flights she’d experienced in her life, she’d thought she’d be used to them now, the bumps, the dips, the rattles. But there was something about a twin propeller plane descending into a clearing at the edge of a rainforest that added a certain… uncertainty.

She felt a warm hand on the back of her own. The gentle squeeze pulled her away from her internal terror and she looked over at Nadia. Lauren wondered how she seemed to remain unaffected by the harrowing descent enough to actually smile at her. And it was always so hard to concentrate on anything else when Nadia smiled. 

\--------

19.

The small stream was a quiet refuge in an otherwise hectic environment. Lauren reasoned with herself that she didn’t know what to expect from the Congo. The heat, the jungle. What she didn’t expect was the level of unrest that still remained after political upheaval.

Lauren squatted next to the water and listed to the burble along with the rest of the symphony of flora and fauna around her. The hospital she was researching at wasn’t far from where Nadia was heading. It was moderate in her experience with field hospitals, but how they relied on traditional medicine was fascinating and looking around her, Lauren could already identify a few of the plants that could be used in treatments. She loved that she could apply this new knowledge so easily.

She was two months into the research project. Almost halfway and she had learned so much already. Merzhad was a great ambassador to the Congolese. He spoke with such ease with them it was almost like there was an unspoken agreement with each other. Nadia took to the Congo like she was destined to be there. She would drive up to various refugee camps and be gone for a few days. But when she came back, she talked about how much she couldn’t wait to go again. Lauren was floored by her ability to adjust.

“Lauren!” Lauren looked up to see Merzhad jogging down the path toward her. “I’m so glad I found you.” He stopped in front of her and caught his breath.

“What’s going on?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“There is a village in the forest,” Merzhad started. “There is a sickness. Many people are dying. I’ve been asked to help. Will you come with me?”

Lauren found herself drawn to the cause. This might have not been why she came to the Congo in the first place, but it was why she became a doctor. “Of course, let me get my things.”

\--------

20.

The jeep rolled to a stop in front of a small village deeper in the jungle. The vibrant greens and browns were a polar opposite to Afghanistan, so much life where life struggled to survive. It was the rainy season, the mist in the air was a signal that a storm was coming, she was told. There was lots of commotion, people running to and from mud buildings and huts, patients lying on mats out in the open. It looked like the war zone Lauren wasn’t unaccustomed to.

Merzhad hopped out of the jeep. “Come on,” he said. “There are some people you need to meet.”

Lauren followed him to an authoritative pair standing outside what Lauren assumed was the hospital. The man was well dressed in a suit and shirt, despite being in the jungle. The woman wore cargos and a t-shirt under a familiar white lab coat. Doctor and… business man? She offered her hand to the both of them.

“Doctor Lewis,” Merzhad started the introduction. “This is the…” He trailed off as if he was making a mistake. Lauren frowned at him and looked between the men.

“Ash,” the man said, shaking her hand. His voice was soft and almost soothing if there wasn‘t a slight edge to the look in his eyes. “We’re pleased you could make it.”

“Nice to meet you, Ash.”

“This is Doctor Everett,” he continued. His voice was almost intoxicating. “She’ll be the one in charge where you’ll be working.” He gestured to the blonde woman next to him.

“Hi.” She shook Lauren’s hand firmly. “Happy to have you on board.”

“I’m happy to be here.” Lauren looked around at the trees towering over them. “How can I help?”

“Why don’t you show Doctor Lewis around,” Ash suggested. “And… brief her on our situation here.”

Lauren watched Doctor Everett nod and couldn’t help thinking this plague was just scraping the surface. There was definitely something more going on here than Merzhad had alluded to.

\--------

21.

The Fae. There wasn’t a time she wished Nadia was with her more. If only to empty this from her brain. Doctor Everett had her running blood samples from the infected to find the source of the plague which gave her far too much time to think about this new knowledge. She paused, a test tube between her fingers. She felt like she was dreaming.

Lauren looked at the tube in her hands and to the massive array of identical tubes filled with the blood of Fae. Each of the samples had a specific difference that translated into what she would have called supernatural abilities. Extended life spans, heightened senses. She looked through the window between where she was and the ill in the next room.

She’d never felt so ordinary.

\--------

22.

“Sample forty-two, an amazimu.” Lauren placed a small drop of clear liquid onto the blood sample and slid the glass slide onto the microscope. “Infected two days ago, severe cell degradation. Applying treatment one-twenty produces…” Lauren leaned forward and peered through the eye-piece. “Negative results.”

Lauren sighed and dropped the slide into a tray next to her. She rested her elbows on the table and pulled off her gloves. The heat had been suffocating, every breath was thick and heavy in the humid air. It gave her a headache. She rubbed her face with her hands and left them there, leaving her in the dark. It was the easier way to block out the world around her. She only wished there was a way to shut off her brain.

“You’ve been at that for days.” Doctor Everett put a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “Let me take over for a while.”

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, running a hand over her face. “Thanks, but I want to see this through.” She got to her feet and moved over to the sink in the table next to her to wash her hands. Even the water was hot. “I think we’re really close.”

Everett leaned back against the table and watched Lauren pull on a new pair of gloves. “I think the Ash would agree if I told you that while the Fae appreciate your dedication, don’t wear yourself out.”

Lauren stopped and looked at the slides and that last variation of potential cures she’d synthesized. “When I lie down, all I can think of is these people, I mean… Fae.” Lauren chuckled at herself and shook her head. “Sorry, I feel a little like Alice in Wonderland.”

Everett smiled. “That’s not unusual when humans are brought into the fold,” she said. “You’re taking it better than most.” She watched Lauren take the last of the latest version of their hopeful cures and prepare another round of slides.

“I’ve learned things are never as they seem, but… the Fae are a little more fantastic than I ever expected.” Lauren slid the first slide under the microscope.

“I still get surprised,” Everett replied. “And I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years.”

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t act so shocked, I told you Fae have prolonged lives.”

“No, no, not that.” Lauren’s eyes were wide.

Everett stepped closer, finally catching on. “What?”

It was like Lauren could hardly believe it as she looked through the scope again. “The cells are breaking down, it’s…” She looked up. “It’s working.” In science, while the initial discovery of something was sometimes a feeling better than sex, Everett and Lauren both knew this didn’t mean anything yet.

“Try another one,” Everett said.

Lauren exchanged the slides quickly and Everett marveled at how precise her movements were. The slide seemed to vibrate in Lauren’s hand as a drop of serum was mixed with the blood of sample forty-five. She looked into the microscope. “This one, too.”

Everett thumped her fist on the table next to Lauren, a few test tubes clinking together. “Keep going,” she said, patting her shoulder. “I’ll get the Ash.”

\--------

23.

Lauren stared out over the small village from the doorway to the hospital. It had been raining for four days which she knew wasn’t that unusual. She found the sound soothing, the constant worry in her chest waning. It had been a few days since she and Doctor Everett had started administering the cure when the rain began and many of the Fae had already recovered. Their healing process astounded her. Shortly after the cure had been synthesized, Fae from neighboring villages started pouring in for treatment.

Lauren fingered the stethoscope around her neck. She was waiting for another transport of Fae from a town not too far from where Nadia said she was going. Lauren wondered if her girlfriend had any idea of the creatures she was likely working side-by-side with. Lauren sighed and tried to see the sky past the forest canopy. She missed Nadia. Missed the companionship, missed being looked at like she wasn’t the odd one out. Moreover she wished she had her there to share this fantastical situation she found herself in.

“Ready?” Everett’s voice startled her.

Lauren breathed in deep. “As always.”

“Atta girl.” Everett patted her shoulder and made her way to the office at the back where Ash spent most of his time. Lauren felt like she had to keep from staring at him, not because she was afraid, but because his intensity and grace was inexplicably alluring. It didn’t occur to her that he was always looking at her, too.

The roar of truck engines pulled her from her thoughts and she watched the headlights approach the door.

“Here we go, people,” she called, instantly regretting her words. “Can I get some hands out here?”

What looked like two military police hopped out of each truck and jogged around the back. A group of doctors rushed out of the hospital and into the pouring rain to the aid of the police. Lauren walked around to the side, watching each group pull one, then two stretchers out of each truck. The rain pelted her head and shoulders, soaking her hair and scrubs. Her chest heaved, watching the patients be wheeled through the mud and into the hospital. On her way back inside, Lauren spotted another body in the back of one of the trucks. She lifted herself into the bed of the truck and crawled to the back where a shadowed heap was left. The sight of unmistakable curls on top the patient’s head made Lauren’s heart sink.

She pulled at the body’s shoulder and felt an crushing sickness overcome her. “Oh my god, Nadia.” Lauren covered her mouth as the tears flowed unchecked. She knelt over her girlfriend, her shaking fingers feeling for a weak pulse. At least she was alive. Lauren moved the back of the truck and called for help. “Hey! You forgot something!” Coming back to Nadia’s side, Lauren squeezed her arms and touched her face, trying to get something, anything in return. She was completely unresponsive. Lauren huffed in frustration, looking out the back of the truck to the pouring rain outside. “Hang on, babe, I’ll be right back.”

Lauren slid out of the back of the truck and ran into the hospital. Her scrubs clung to her body as she stopped just inside the door. Everett supervised the patients’ treatment with the Ash observing as Lauren knew him for. The four officers stood next to the Ash’s office, chuckling over something before one of them noticed her presence and elbowed the one to his right to silence him.

“What the hell is going on?” Lauren called to them. Everett and the Ash both looked toward her as she took a step closer to the group. “There’s another patient outside.” She pointed out the door, her arm dripping water.

“The human?” One of them asked with a scoff. “We already brought her here, we’re not touching her again.”

“Wh…” Lauren’s protest disappeared in a whoosh from her chest. She looked at Everett who wore an expression of some kind of compassion, though Lauren couldn’t figure out what exactly and the Ash watched her with that stoicism she was learning to despise. There were no orders on behalf of him or Everett and the officers made no move to help. It was an excruciating thirty seconds where Lauren found herself realizing a human’s true worth in the Fae world. Nothing. “This is unbelievable,” she spat, turning on her heel and rushing back out to the truck.

The rain relented as Lauren stopped next to the truck and braced her hands on her knees. What had she done, bringing them here? Who were these Fae? Was she even going to make it out of the Congo? Lauren breathed hard, her mind spinning into a vortex of doubt and frustration. She looked to the sky and took a deep breath, pulling the shards of herself together. She needed to get Nadia into a hospital bed.

Lauren pulled herself back into the truck and slid on wet hands and knees to Nadia. “Hey,” she said, looking her over again. Lauren pulled Nadia against her. “It’s just you and me, okay?” She sniffed, wiping the water from her nose. “I gotta get you out of here.”

She grunted as she moved, pulling Nadia along the truck bed. Lauren hooked her arm around Nadia’s chest and pulled herself along, her face contorted in effort. “Oh god, Nadia. Please wake up.” They moved a few inches at a time, an aching pace. It was an eternity and Lauren found her body start to complain. “I can’t lift you, honey.”

At the edge of the truck, Lauren slid out from under Nadia and dropped to the muddy ground. Her legs quaked and she welcomed the cooling rain on her body again. She reached into the truck and grabbed Nadia’s arms, pulling her to the edge. Lauren sniffed again, running her hands over her hair. She hooked her arms under Nadia’s and started backing up in a careful chess game between Lauren, the mud, and her unconscious girlfriend.

When Lauren took her fifth step back, Nadia fell from the truck. A few wide and staggered steps back, Lauren kept them upright, her body screaming in surrender. And then she couldn’t do it anymore. Her mind and body eventually won over and the women fell to the ground in a heap, Lauren able to at least keep Nadia against her. Her throat burned from the effort her lungs demanded of her as she pushed herself upright, adjusting Nadia in her lap. The ground was warm beneath them.

“God, I’m sorry, Nadia.” Lauren broke down, her hand covering her face. She came to the Congo to find a way to further medicine, she came to this village to save lives. Now she sat in the mud in the pouring rain with her unconscious human girlfriend with no help at all. Nadia outweighed her and with the adrenaline waning, Lauren wasn’t capable of lifting her on her own. Her shoulders shook with every sob. She’d never felt so vulnerable and powerless and all because of her own humanity. The feeling of isolation was all-encompassing.

“Hey.” Lauren wiped her face on her arm and looked up at Doctor Everett. “Come on, let’s get her inside.”

\--------

24.

“Summary of treatment,” Lauren started into a small tape recorder. She ran out of cassettes days ago and in a fit of desperation began recording over the research she’d completed with Merzhad months ago. “Almost every variation of the Fae cure has produced negative results with Nadia. Synthesizing a cure from her own DNA makeup has been inconclusive.” She sighed and looked at Nadia laying prone in a hospital bed, far from any Fae and cordoned off with plastic dividers. Most of the infected Fae had been cured and released. Doctor Everett had gently suggested Lauren have her sent to a human hospital in the closest metropolis, but Lauren was loathe to move her. Her vitals were weak, but stable and Lauren worried about any undue stress on her body.

“Version one-thirty-two,” Lauren spoke again, a small drop of the cure fell onto one of the many slides of Nadia’s blood Lauren had taken. She watched the two liquids mingle before sliding it onto the microscope. Lauren looked at the ceiling and sighed, her eyes closing in a silent prayer. She peered through the eye-piece and swore. “Negative.”

The adrenaline raced through her as Lauren got to her feet suddenly, the stool skittering across the tiled floor. She picked up the offending vial of ’version one-thirty-two’ and hurled it against the wall, the glass test tube shattering into a thousand pieces.

“Having some trouble?”

The soft gravelly voice surprised her and Lauren jumped, looking over her shoulder at the Ash who must have left his office to see what the commotion was about.

Lauren looked at the floor then, embarrassed by her outburst. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“I understand.” The Ash moved toward her and Lauren could almost feel the intensity surrounding him. “It’s not easy to see a loved one so ill.”

She nodded. “If I just had the resources to see this through…” She looked over to the corner of the hospital and back again to meet his eyes. “I know I can save her.”

The Ash gestured to the door of the hospital. The ground outside was almost dry from the latest rain and there a sliver of sunshine that managed its way through the trees. “Care to go for a walk?” he asked. “I have a proposition for you.” 

\--------

25.

“Looks like I’m coming with you.”

Doctor Everett looked up from boxes she had been packing, carefully wrapping a few instruments for travel. She and the Ash were heading back home now that the plague had been minimized. They were leaving what was left of the cure behind for the others staying behind to administer if any others showed up at the hospital.

Lauren stopped next to Everett. “Can I help?” She watched Everett’s eyes dip to her chest and back to her face again, a look of shock betraying her stoicism.

“What are you doing wearing that?”

Lauren picked the necklace from her chest and smoothed her fingers over it. “The Ash offered me a position with him,” she explained. “If I become his in-house scientist, I get everything I need to cure Nadia.”

“It’s one thing to offer assistance in a time of need, but…” Everett looked around the room before pulling Lauren aside. “You are not an employee, Lauren,” she said quietly, but not without warning. “You are a possession.”

Lauren blinked at her, unable to remember if Everett had mentioned this in their own walk through the village. The Ash certainly didn’t mention it. Why would he, of course. Lauren looked over at Nadia, who was being carefully moved into a pod the Ash insisted was safe for her to travel in. She noted how the fear and disgust of handling a human was suddenly absent.

“What am I supposed to do?” Lauren asked. “Let her die in a hospital that’s likely light years behind what the Fae can offer? It’s my fault she’s even here.”

Everett sighed and rolled her eyes. “You humans and your loyalty.”

The clenching in her jaw was unconscious, but Lauren hardened instead of losing control. “Is loyalty a rarity among Fae?” Her heart pounded and she refused to swallow the lump in her throat.

Doctor Everett stared at her with an expression Lauren hadn’t known her long enough to experience. Was it hatred? Was it pride? “Stay close to me when we get back to the compound,” she said. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

\--------

26.

The sight of the jungle receding into a green blob on the horizon should have made her relax. She told herself that once they got home, though the definition of that term remained to be determined, things would be better. She’d have the lab she needed, the equipment and staff she required to study the Fae and ultimately, save Nadia.

Lauren stared at the seatbelt symbol above her head. Her body vibrated with tension knowing her Nadia was lying comatose on the other end of the plane, being transported in a chamber that kept her safe and away from pathogens that might complicate her situation. Not being able to see her was killing Lauren. Even though she would only be able to do just that. It wasn’t like there was a lab, makeshift or otherwise, that Lauren could use to curb her anxiety. She would have to make do with the texts and written notes she’d started to scribble in the days she had been unsuccessful in treating Nadia. But they were in the compartment over her head and could only be accessed once they hit cruising altitude.

It was strange to look around the cabin of the Ash’s private jet. Bank seating, leather upholstery, servers, television, music. Affluent didn’t begin to describe the experience. She had to keep reminding herself of the circumstances that brought her there. When the light behind the seatbelt dimmed, Lauren was quick to unclip the latch and get to her feet. Doctor Everett flipped through a magazine in the seat behind her.

“You’re not going for those books, are you?” she asked.

Lauren paused, her arms stretched over her head. “I have to do something,” she replied. “I’m losing my mind.”

Everett smiled and turned another page. “You remind me of me. Years ago.”

“Is this where you tell me that focusing on something I can’t control won’t help my guilt?” Lauren pulled her bag out of the compartment and dropped it on the seat. “I’ve read that book, too.”

“Spitting image,” Everett chuckled. “I’m not about to tell you not to read those notes.” She flipped another page. “I just want to make sure you know it’s not going to help.”

Lauren slumped into her seat again and pulled a book from her bag. “Well it can’t get any worse.” 

\--------

27.

Life with the Fae had its ups and downs. Lauren was never wanting for anything she needed for her work. There was no question of necessity, of budget. Lauren wasn’t one to abuse this type of privilege, but she also wasn’t one to settle. If the Ash wanted the best, he needed to give her the best. But that concession didn’t come without a strict expectation. One that Lauren was quick to learn.

Understanding the Fae was a full time job on its own and if it hadn’t been for Doctor Everett guiding her through her first infantile steps through the Fae world, Lauren was sure she wouldn’t have survived. If her run in with the military police in the Congo wasn’t illustration enough of the regard in which humans were held by the Fae, Lauren’s uncontrollable mouth got her into trouble again six months into her tenure.

The Ash wasn’t a violent man, but he was a stern leader and unapologetic when his belongings started running amok. Lauren remembered questioning his decision once, one of life and death between a Light and Dark Fae. The sides had been explained to her, but she didn’t appreciate the importance of this clan alignment until she suggested the Dark Fae be kept on the compound until vitals had been stabilized and they were safe to transport. She remembered the look on Doctor Everett’s face when the words came out of her mouth and she instantly realized her mistake.

Four years later, she still cringed at the clanging sound of the dungeon door slamming her inside a tiny concrete and stone cell. It was cold and hard, the cot rivaled the one she barely used in the Congo. It felt a lot like the stories told in the videos and lectures she and Jackie sat through before going to Afghanistan. And the Fae knew their humans well. During her four-day sentence, she enjoyed a cup of water - too quickly the first time as one was all she would get each day - but no food. An imposed fast to help her see her misguided line of thought. She had to be escorted back to her apartment at the end of the fourth day and was tended to with the utmost in care for the time it took her to recover. It was a twisted form of Stockholm Syndrome.

So while her life with the Fae was professionally fulfilling, it was personally and emotionally decrepit. Lauren had never felt so alone and controlled as she did at the compound. At least now she enjoyed what liberty the Ash allowed her. An apartment, her lab, control of staff and the ability to see sick Fae when required. But it was an illusion of freedom. She was never allowed to leave the compound unaccompanied and needed to be available to the Fae at any time or day. It was quite a trade off, Nadia’s life for her own.

Lauren sat at the island in her kitchen, tapping a pen against the countertop as she did every six to eight months. She tried to write her parents a letter at least once a year. Full of good news, adventures and lies. Lauren had never left the Congo. The research project was such a success their grants kept getting renewed and her assistance and experience was an invaluable asset. She broke up with Nadia, but still tried to keep in touch. The Congo was a marvelous place full of culture and beautiful people. She never heard back from them of course. The Fae had agreed to fake the postage and hand deliver each letter, but after five years, Lauren was running out of things to say. There were only so many stories you could spin about something so absurd.

\--------

28.

“Please, come with me.”

Lauren escorted the woman out of the room and down a long and narrow hall to her lab. She tried to be as calm as she could. The look on the woman’s face was familiar. She wore it when she was introduced to the Fae, when she was thrown into the dungeon, when she saw the Ash’s eyes close in concentration. She was well accustomed to the fear and the confusion that came along with the discovery that there were more than just humans that lived on this Earth, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to realize you were one of them.

“So who the hell are you?” the woman asked. The attitude was expected. Lauren stopped them in the hall and extended her hand. The woman shrugged her shoulders. “Kind of hard to shake hands in shackles.”

“Of course.” Lauren pulled a small set of keys from her pocket. “You don’t see me doing this,” she said, stepping behind the woman and unlocking the thick cuffs around her wrists.

“See you doing what?” The woman’s smirk stunned Lauren and she smiled shyly at the floor. They continued walking at a slower pace, suddenly feeling like this moment should be prolonged. “I’m Bo.”

Lauren looked at her and smiled carefully. “Lauren,” she replied.

“The,” Bo started, touching the dangling stethoscope at Lauren’s chest, “Doctor?”

Lauren’s eyes followed the retreating hand before they fell on Bo’s curled lips. She nodded, gesturing for Bo to turn left. “That‘s right,” she confirmed. The tightness in her chest didn’t feel like anxiety this time. It was warm and intense and she hadn’t felt it in years.

“So where are you taking me, Lauren the Doctor?”

“To my lab… the lab,” Lauren corrected herself. “I need to do a full examination on you.”

“But Doctor,” Bo said, pulling at the lapel on Lauren’s lab coat. They stopped in the hallway, mere steps from the lab. “We just met.”

The flush to her cheeks was as instant as the smile on her face. “Please,” Lauren said, calming her nerves with a quick breath. She directed Bo into the laboratory. “This won’t take long.”

\--------  


29.

Lauren had lost count of how many times she’d asked her laboratory staff to stop leaving empty beakers and test tubes out on the countertops after they’d left for the day. When her back hit the edge of the stainless counter, she grunted and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the sound of glass breaking. When the sound didn’t come, she felt Bo’s hands at her hips, her lips tracing a path along her neck and jaw.

“You okay?” she asked, undoing Lauren’s cotton shirt with a level of care Lauren found commendable.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lauren replied quickly, pulling Bo’s face from her chest to her lips again. Bo didn’t visit her much in the lab when she was under Lachlan’s control, but once the Garuda had been vanquished, Bo’s license to wander around the compound had been extended. So what if the lab was off limits to everyone when the compound closed up shop at the end of the day? Would she risk a couple days in the dungeon for Bo? Did she really think Hale would send her there anyway?

Bo pulled at the buttons on Lauren’s jeans, her breath hot against her chest. At her struggle, Lauren moved in and undid the buttons with ease, moving to pull the lab coat from her shoulders. Bo’s hands stopped her then, a firm grip that startled Lauren. Bo’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Leave it,” she said. Her hands moved to Lauren’s hips and with a small hop, Lauren perched on the edge of the counter, pulling Bo toward her.

Bo was an experience of her own, not only sexually, but personally and intimately as well. Lauren never knew what she was going to do next, what she was capable of doing, but it was in that unpredictability that Lauren started to understand her, started to care for her. She kissed Bo with a desire she barely remembered, with the haste of wanting to share this moment for the sake of sharing it and not because she wanted to forget or to hide. Bo brought out everything she remembered about herself before the Congo, before Afghanistan.

Lauren pulled away from Bo, resting their foreheads together. Her chest rose and fell in a steady pace. Bo smiled and stole a quick kiss. “So,” she said softly, her hand wandering the length of Lauren’s body and back again. She shivered under Bo’s touch. “Is this a new fantasy realized, or what?”

Lauren hummed with a clever smile that disappeared as soon as Bo’s hand paused between her legs. The gasp was quiet, but Lauren could tell Bo noticed the change in her arousal. “You don’t think I’ve thought of this before?”

The grin that spread across Bo’s face was telling. Lauren was in for it now. 

\--------

30.

The lab was so quiet. Lauren loved to run experiments late at night, after everyone had left for the day. It was a trait she didn’t realize she’d picked up until she worked for a university shortly after leaving home the second time. Nadia would visit her just like Bo did, and many an encounter ended up the same, wrapped in the sterile sheets of a bed in the darkest corner of the lab.

Lauren would sometimes catch herself wondering why she agreed to go to the Congo in the first place. Why she convinced Nadia to go with her. Why she felt shame about sleeping with Bo. She knew, logically, that she couldn’t hold herself responsible for either. Predicting your life was not something anyone could do, despite their mother’s advice. And Lauren knew she did everything she could to save Nadia, but it didn’t stop that niggling doubt in her own abilities. That despite their failing relationship, she made the effort to rebuild it, she stayed at Nadia’s side out of love and loyalty and that should have been enough to quell the guilt she felt by trying to start again.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Bo whispered, her fingers tracing a figure eight between Lauren’s breasts.

“Hm.” Lauren closed her eyes and smiled. Caught in her thoughts again. She captured Bo’s hand in her own and held it against her chest.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind.” She lowered her head and touched her lips to Lauren’s shoulder. “More than usual.”

Lauren looked at Bo, wanting to tell her everything and scared to tell her anything. Her mind screamed it all, but she glanced at their hands instead. She couldn’t find the words to describe what her body already had with nearly as much sophistication. And so she kissed Bo again, softly, slowly, and hoped that it would tell her everything she wanted to know.

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31.

The planes might have changed, but the flights remained the same. Lauren always wanted a romantic flight across the world like you saw in the movies. Flights where you realized your love or discovered your true self in an Enlightenment process as long as a double feature. Instead her flights were places of regret and what ifs. 

On the long trip home from her father‘s funeral, Lauren obsessed over what was and what could have been. Would her father still be alive if she’d become a surgeon all those years ago? Would any of her decisions have made any difference to Nadia? Did this overwhelming sense of loss and responsibility deserve to be put on her shoulders? It didn’t seem to matter. It was on her shoulders, her mind and her heart. This was the way she operated, like it or not.

The elbow in her side pulled her away from her thoughts. “Beef or chicken?”

Lauren blinked. “What?”

“She’ll have the chicken,” Bo told the attendant. Some people would be insulted by having someone order them food. As if they were incapable of making their own choices. Lauren didn’t mind, though. She would have picked the chicken. “Hey.”

It was Bo’s voice again and Lauren looked at her, blinking again. “What?”

Bo chuckled. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You haven’t said anything for like, ten minutes and I’m starting to take it personally.”

Lauren had a habit of getting lost in her thoughts, sometimes it was her only company. “No, don’t, I’m just…” Lauren looked to the ceiling to collect her thoughts, but she smiled instead. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Anytime.” Bo smiled wide, looking at the screen that showed the flight’s progress across the map. Lauren found herself lost in Bo’s profile. She watched her lips move, but was caught without an answer when their eyes met again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Bo asked.

It was a wonder to her that she’d even met Bo. Someone who actually asked her how she was doing and listened to her answer. Someone who knew what Lauren was thinking just by looking at her. Bo was the first one in years to care for her in a way that it didn’t matter what it took, or what it cost, she would be there for her. Human prejudice be damned. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt free, you know that?”

Bo looked at her blankly. “Ah, you lost me.”

“Just…” The quiet vacuum of recycled air calmed Lauren’s nerves. “My parents, my job, the Ash.”

Soft fingers played at Lauren’s as they rested on Bo’s knee. “And me?” Bo asked quietly.

Lauren smiled, her eyes studying the curves of Bo’s face all over again. “You’re the only one I can be myself around.”

Bo leaned forward and kissed Lauren gently, her lips warm and soft. It was a spell Lauren never got tired of falling under. Her hand touched Bo’s jaw, fingers curling around the back of her neck to hold her close. Lauren deepened the kiss then, for a moment forgetting their surroundings. When they parted, both women short of breath, Lauren couldn’t help but stare at swollen lips and beg for the opportunity to kiss them again.

Bo’s fingers threaded between Lauren’s. “Then I’m glad you found me,” she said, squeezing Lauren’s hand.

And suddenly it all made sense. All the stress, all the heartache, all the terrible things she saw and experienced, somehow brought her to Bo. There was no telling if she would have ended up here if any of her decisions had been different. And the thought honestly scared her. For the first time in her life, even with the oppression of the Fae, Lauren didn’t want to be anywhere else. That maybe she was finally home.

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END  
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End file.
